


Missing Transition

by innusiq



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Community: tsn_kinkmeme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:54:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innusiq/pseuds/innusiq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the following prompt posted in the TSN_kinkmeme #10:   Mark/Eduardo<br/>can be any time period, but at some point, they transition from friends to longterm boyfriends/committed dating, and that announce it over dinner. however, no one believes them and thinks they're joking because there's no change in public behavior, minimum to no pda, things of that nature. but that changes the day someone walks in on them at the office/in the dorm/at mark's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Transition

Chris meets Eduardo for the first time his Sophomore year at Harvard. It's not surprising that they don't meet earlier than this, seeing as Chris can barely remember his Freshman year and it isn't until three weeks into his second at the University that Chris _finally_ feels some semblance of belonging amongst the rest of the student body outside his dorm room. When they do meet though, it isn't some _grand introduction_ by common acquaintances that would have been inevitable, or at some student mixer with _lots_ of alcohol and loud music, but rather a full course day that somehow opened up one moment of opportunity for breath and food that brought Chris back to Kirkland house and its dining hall where he sees the unnamed student sitting quietly by himself, fingers of one hand tracing across lines in a book while the other holds a half eaten (probably half forgotten) sandwich. Chris' mouth quirks at the side, seeing a little of himself in the other student, taking this as an opportunity to expand his friendship circle outside the likes of an introverted and blunt computer geek, and the polar opposite puppy-excited and spastic, heart-on-his-sleeve Mario Kart addict. Yes, an expanded circle of friendship is _definitely_ what his Sophomore year needs.

"This seat taken?"

At first, he thinks the other guy doesn't hear him, index finger still making its way back and forth across the pages of what looks like a very boring textbook, but then the brunette drops his sandwich back to his tray, quickly marking his place in the book before brushing his hands of any possible crumbs and looks up with the most inviting smile Chris has ever seen.

"Oh, hey," the guy says, gesturing across from him at the empty spot. "Please, please do."

Chris returns the smile and sets his tray down while taking the offered seat, cheeks warm because the guy is really, really, really good looking.

"My name is Chris," he says while extending a hand, which is promptly engulfed into the warmth of two and shaken earnestly.

"Eduardo," the other student returns, eyes expressing an innocent-excitement that is refreshing on the Harvard campus, a hint of accent slipping through his otherwise perfect English, which is even more charming than his eyes. 

"I haven't seen you around the Kirkland dining hall before," Chris comments absently, twisting open his bottled water and taking a sip, attempting conversation so the guy doesn't nosedive back into his book.

"Yeah," Eduardo says, scratching at the back of his head, eyes drooping a bit. "I… I usually eat in Elliott's but… I sometimes get tired of… well… I just wanted a change in scenery."

Chris tips his head to the side, observing the somewhat reserved nature of the other guy, wondering exactly what has rubbed him the wrong way or perhaps maybe even _who_.

"I get that," Chris comments, picking up his fork and stabbing at his salad. "I mean, I think Harvard can do that to you, ya know? I barely remember my Freshman year last year, and even today I don't know how I made it."

Eduardo snorts a laugh, obviously commiserating a similar Freshman year.

"Trust me, your Sophomore year won't get any easier," Eduardo comments with and air of experience. "And by the way things are shaping up… I have a feeling each and every year will be the same for that matter."

Chris' heart plummets at the idea of flying by the seat of his pants through his entire University experience, that and learning Eduardo is a year ahead of him. 

"Seriously?" He questions, a slight wobble in his voice even _he_ can't miss, not to mention his hand going slack and dropping his fork on the floor.

"Maybe?" Eduardo smiles apologetically and offers Chris his own, unused fork. "But you get used to it I guess, and it isn't all _that_ terrifying, really, especially if you have friends to lean on."

"And you?"

Eduardo startles a moment, eyes going panic-wide. "And me?"

Chris sets the fork down and looks at Eduardo seriously, because if there is one thing Harvard will never take away from him it is his general human nature to care about everyone and everything. "Yes, you are here, by yourself, obviously seeking refuge from your own dorm, so _you_ , do you have this friends to lean on that is supposed to make everything a little less _terrifying_?"

"There are people," Eduardo says with a shrug of his shoulder while he reaches to open his book again, as if that will end the conversation, but this Eduardo has yet to get to know Chris well enough to _know_ that will not work.

"Who leave you alone."

Eduardo is staring down at his opened book, but his fingers are not tracing any of the printed words within. They are clenched in a fist, holding the textbook open for Eduardo to stare at, and that alone settles it for Chris. While at first, this chance meeting was a way for Chris to expand his own circle of friends, as with all friendships, it's a give and take. He will take Eduardo into his circle and in return, Chris will offer Eduardo a true friendship of his own, along with that of a computer geek and over-excited puppy.

"Come on," Chris abruptly stands and waits for Eduardo to do the same. 

Eduardo stares up at him confused.

" _Come on_ ," Chris reiterates, shouldering his backpack and picking up his food tray.

The movement shakes Eduardo out of his stupor and has him scrambling to gather his books into his own pack and picking up his tray to discard his dinner remains. "Where are we going?"

Chris smiles wide, offering a little wink as he turns, heading for the nearest trash bin. "I think I have _exactly_ what you've been looking for."

"What? Looking for? Me?"

Eduardo sputters, discarding his trash and meeting Chris' eyes with uncertainty.

Chris softens his smile, hand reaching out to rest on Eduardo's shoulder (he doesn't miss the initial flinch received from the gentle pressure), knowing this is definitely the right thing to do when he finally answers, "Friends to lean on."

Here's the thing Chris has learned in his limited experience at Harvard: in order to retain sanity, one really needs to like his dorm mates, even if he hates and despises them. Granted, when one hates and despises a person, yes, it is near to impossible to force liking them, but each and every person has at least _one thing_ in them that is likable. Chris' Freshman year dorm mates were definitely a test of his patience and sanity. So what if he spent the least amount of his awake time in his shared door last year due to the diversity amongst the three of them, but there was at least something he could find to like in each from the ignorant homophobe who kept the cleanliest quarter of the dorm to the volatile soap-box that liked to push buttons but _always_ had Chris' back even if it was Chris' buttons he relished pushing the most. He at least survived Freshman year, he hopes better from the experience, but Freshman year couldn't have even possibly prepared him for this one.

Pushing open the door to his dorm, he hears the familiar video game music that has basically become background noise most evenings (he isn't entirely certain how Dustin passes his classes comparing the time spent studying against time spent playing), but once he's stepped foot inside the main room the game is paused and he is promptly greeted by an excited Dustin prattling on and on about this girl he met at the library, and how beautiful, and smart, and funny and did he mention beautiful, though the run-on sentence ends abruptly with, "Oh my god! You made a friend!"

The wide, eager, and yes _over-the-top_ excited grin that spreads Dustin's mouth wide makes Chris cringe, because the last thing he needs is Dustin scaring Eduardo off. 

"Mark! Mark! Chris brought someone home! He brought someone home!"

Chris is marginally surprised to find Mark not hidden in his own corner of the dorm but rather sitting on the couch in the common area. What doesn't surprise him is finding Mark's nose buried in his laptop oblivious to his surroundings, but even that has become a somewhat endearing quality that Chris doesn't understand himself. 

"Dustin, heel," Chris orders, causing a mock pout from Dustin and a laugh from behind him, which sends a shiver of relief through him. "Dustin, this is Eduardo, Eduardo, this is Over-Excited Puppy."

Dustin, bless his soul, makes the biggest puppy-dog eyes and even pants a bit before smiling wide and offering Eduardo a hand in greeting.

"You can call me Dustin," Dustin offers as Eduardo shakes his hand, voice dropping but still remaining audible enough for everyone in the room to hear even though he's leaning towards Eduardo as if sharing a hidden secret. "Don't tell Chris, but I've taken to calling him Princess Peach when he's not around."

Chris rolls his eyes, because that isn't even a secret (anymore) as he calls Chris that to his face all the time, but it pulls a shy snicker out of Eduardo and amazingly a snort and barely there smirk from an apparently not totally oblivious Mark. These are just a few more reasons he has slowly but surely begun to regard these two as more than simple dorm mates and acquaintances. All three of them are on their way to true friendship, each balancing out the differences in the other, and while the most obvious difference between the three of them and Eduardo is attire, Eduardo choosing well tailored pants, crisp white shirts and ties and the rest of them going a bit more casual with jeans, cargos, T-shirts and hoodies, Chris only sees Eduardo as another necessary element to their group.

"And this," Chris continues with the introductions, gesturing towards Mark whose fingers continue clacking away on the Netbook in his lap. "This is Computer Geek…"

"Code Robot," Mark corrects absently, which makes Dustin cackle loudly (another of Dustin's many names for Mark), and Eduardo huff a disbelieving breath. 

"Mark," Chris admonishes with the name alone, because he prefers his nickname over the many, many, many Dustin has been able to come up with to date, but continues. "Mark, this is…"

"Eduardo, I know," he says, finally looking up and eyeing their guest. It's an almost calculating look, one that Eduardo fidgets under but doesn't really look away from all the same, Chris thinking Eduardo a brave man to face down one of the sharpest tongues he's ever met, but it is all for naught. "I think we'll call him Wardo."

And just as quickly, Mark is back to his code or whatever he is actually working on and Dustin is grinning madly again, seeming in agreement with the assigned name and for once Chris can't complain in the slightest, especially when he turns to regard their new friend (possibly to apologize for his dorm mates craziness) only to find Eduardo smiling fondly down at Mark who isn't even paying them attention anymore, even though Chris knows better because while Mark may not be looking at them, his fingers remain still and Mark's biting at his bottom lip. Chris lets it go though for now, because introductions seemed to have gone smoothly, and invites Eduardo further in.

"Come on, I promise they won't bite."

"We won't bite much, or hard you me," Dustin adds, taking up his spot on the couch and lifting the game controller. "Do you play?"

Eduardo finally turns his head from Mark to Dustin and shakes his head, eyes wide like a stunned deer.

" _Excellent_ ," Dusitn crows, patting the seat next to him. "A virgin. Come, sit, and let Dustin introduce you to the wonderful-magical world that is Mario Kart."

Chris shakes his head, Mark snorts as his fingers finally pick up with their clacking again, and Eduardo just nods and finds his way to the couch between Dustin and Mark. While Chris has known Dustin and Mark since Freshman year, the three of them sharing a boring literature class and struggling to find their foot in the University world, coming to know and understand each other as if they'd been friends since grade school, Eduardo still slips into their little circle with the ease of a long lost friend finding his way back home. The fact that the _virgin_ kicks Dustin's butt in Mario Kart first time out, _beginners luck_ Dustin cries, is proof enough that Eduardo is definitely a keeper, and further proof is that Mark pulls himself out of his coding zone more times than Chris can ever remember witnessing in the past to simply rub Eduardo's wins in Dustin's face (and prove he does pay attention when it's important), Chris thinks Eduardo will definitely be good for them as well.

~~~~~~

If there is one thing in life Dustin can _emphatically_ admit to it is that he loves women. Okay, he can also emphatically admit to loving really cold beer, three day old cold pizza and a weekend long marathon of nothing but video games with the aforementioned beer and pizza, but most importantly it's the women: tall or short, rail thin or curvy, any skin tone. He loves, loves, _loves_ , women, especially when they actually pay attention to him, which while it isn't rare for the opposite sex to find him interesting enough now and again, it also isn't fail proof that every time he hangs out (or as Mark refers to it, troll) at whatever party-student function-bar he scores. It probably (most definitely) doesn't help that his usual company to such excursions is Chris and/or Mark, and while Chris really isn't the main problem in the scoring equation since the girls of Harvard, once they meet Chris and realize he isn't your typical _Harvard Boy_ , they seem to find a comrade of sorts in the fairer head of their group and a comfort level that ends up extended to Chris' friends, at least at first. That is until Mark opens his mouth and spews his unforgiving honestly, and while normally Dustin adores Mark's biting words because they just make the ever-present disgruntled scowl (that Dustin is sure will end up frozen permanently on Mark's face some day as forewarned by his mother since his childhood) look _marginally cute_ (if a guy can admit to that and even if he can or has, Dustin will still deny such admission to his grave), but when Dustin is trying to at least have a love life to brag about, it totally is definitely _not_ cute, or funny, or very much appreciated. 

In short, it had been a long, lonely and frustrating Freshman year for Dustin, especially the night he burst into Mark's dorm room prepared to beg for a last minute study session that he didn't truly need, but was still freaking out about due to the general weighted stress of expectations and Harvard pushing him to the weakness of second guessing himself, only to find Mark making out on his bed with a girl Dustin had never seen before on campus or with Mark specifically for that matter. 

"Oh my God," the girl startles, crawling away but not really far, wiping at her mouth and straightening her shirt. 

Mark on the other hand expresses no sense of modesty for himself or the girl. He remains sprawled on his back, baggy cargo shorts not hiding obvious arousal, and while Dustin doesn't expect anything more from Mark, it still pisses him off that Mark, _Mark_ , of all people doesn't seem to have any problem finding a nice girl (saint really) to like him while Dustin remains very single. 

"Dustin. Erica. Erica. Dustin."

Erica, bless her heart, has the sense to blush, now sitting up fully, and whispers out an admonishing _Mark_ before directing a quiet hey to Dustin.

"Oh. My. God." It's the only thing Dustin can say before turning and leaving just as abruptly as he arrived, pissed and perhaps a bit scarred for life. 

The past is the past though, forgotten (except for the scarred parts), and Dustin has moved on because there is something else Dustin emphatically loves now, or more precisely _someone_.

Beside him is some girl named Monica, she has dark brown, silky hair that she tucks behind her ear every time it falls forward when she giggles, and on his other side is an auburn haired beauty who's nose crinkles when she smiles and has just the right curves his arm fits nicely around (more importantly who lets his arm fit nicely around said curves), and across from them is the object of his emphatic, newfound love, _Eduardo_ (along with Chris and Mark). Admittedly, the love he has for the new addition to their little band of brothers is just the run of the mill bromance, because Eduardo is like a God when it comes to attracting women (so much more than Chris, and Chris was _really good_ ). It's not that the guy has a slick and smooth way with words or pick-up lines, or even tries being _that guy_ , the one every other guy wishes he could be. No, Eduardo is like a _Bambi-Ninja_ (Dustin's super-secret nickname he hasn't shared with a single soul) when it comes to the pick-up, what with his big brown eyes and general skittish nature that girls seem to flock to protect and perhaps work the passive aggressive card in hopes of being picked up by such a genuinely nice guy. Dustin hasn't the heart to mention to the women who try that play that they're wasting their breath since he has never once seen Eduardo leave with any of them, and those that don't have their bait snagged tend to turn their attention to the others at the table, and seeing as one of them has a girlfriend and another is gay, that leaves Dustin reaping the benefits of Eduardo's loss.

"Think I'm calling it a night," Mark says abruptly, speaking up for what seems like the first time all evening, even though Dustin knows he caught a few whispered comments back and forth between Mark and Eduardo all night, ones that made Mark snort and smirk, and Eduardo laugh out loud and smile. 

"I might believe that if I didn't know better," Dustin comments, Chris sagely nods in agreement, taking a swig of beer. "If you aren't in class, or out with us, you're coding into the wee small hours of the morning. Do you even sleep?"

Mark scowls. "I sleep."

"In class," Chris comments quietly into his drink and Dustin can't help laughing loudly when Mark's scowl grows deeper as he shrinks under his hunched shoulders. 

"The lectures are boring and offer nothing outside what I've already read in the assigned texts," Mark argues, adding, "It is said that the human brain can absorb…"

" _Mark_ ," Chris halts Mark's defense, having heard it a million times before and knowing, while there might be support in such research, Mark is definitely not sleeping in class to absorb anything. "At least be honest."

"I'm always honest," Mark mutters to himself, though they all can hear.

"Mark," Eduardo breaks in, having kept his tongue until now, and while Dustin is just waiting for Eduardo's two cents on the matter (the guy being like a mother hen and all), all Eduardo says in the end is, "I'll walk you back."

The girls around them snicker, Mark's shoulders hunch even further and Chris just rolls his eyes.

"Wardo, you don't…" Mark begins, but stops when Eduardo's hand rests on his shoulder. 

"I have some studying to do too," Eduardo says so earnestly that Dustin almost believes it, but he knows Eduardo enough at this stage of their friendship that their prim and proper, cross all i's and dot all t's friend would never have come out this evening unless all his coursework and studying had been finished prior, which is just another reason Dustin secretly refers to Eduardo as _Bambi-Ninja_.

"We can stop by my dorm and grab my books, and then we'll go back to yours," Eduardo suggests and Dustin still doesn't understand how he is the only one who sees the lies. "You can code or do whatever it is you need to do, and I'll study. You're actually helping me, because sometimes I get a little stir-crazy when studying alone. Okay?"

 _Damn, Wardo's good_ , Dustin thinks and Mark falls for it, offering a nod before turning without further word or even a polite goodbye to take his aforementioned leave, but of course Eduardo can not be so abrupt or rude.

"It was nice meeting you Monica, and Celeste," Eduardo says, making eye contact with each of the girls (Dustin reminding himself over and over again that the red head's name is Celeste). "Chris, I'll see you in class, and Dustin," Eduardo stops with a pointed look at him before adding in a meaningful tone, "Thanks again, man."

Chris snorts in his drink, shaking his head, before downing it and announcing. "I'm getting another. Anyone else?"

Hands go up all around, and he nods leaving Dustin behind to fill the girls in on whatever outlandish thing he dreams up to explain what exactly Eduardo was thanking him for. It's sort of their thing, Eduardo attracting this unwanted attention and then passing it off onto Dustin. The best wingman, _ever_. Honestly, he doesn’t really get it, but then who is he to complain when he's on the receiving end? Sometimes the evening is successful, other nights not so much. Sometimes it depends on the amount of alcohol consumed, and other it's basically the complete and utter lack of any kind of chemistry. This night is one of the latter, Chris and he walking back to Kirkland House on their own late into the night almost early morning. When they finally push through the door of their dorm room it is to find Mark still going at it, fingers tapping out code faster than Dustin can read and next to him on the couch is Eduardo fast asleep in a half sitting half slouch, text book discarded on the floor. 

"Don't wake him," Mark warns without even coming up from the code his fingers are in the middle of tapping out, and Dustin wonders absently how Mark is even able to stand most days after spending all night hunched over like that.

Chris giggles next to him, something he is more prone to do when drunk, and shakes his head, waving them off as he heads to his bed and throws over his shoulder uselessly, " _Sleep_ Mark."

Mark grunts, whether he's placating or telling Chris to fuck off, Dustin can't quite determine, but it's too late in the evening for him to even care, and the bed seems like a nice idea, so he makes his way to the other side of their dorm, stopping a moment to say, "As a friend, you could have at least offered your bed since you won't be using it yourself."

Dustin's sways his way to his own bed (why did it have to be so far from the door), not expecting Mark to respond or even acknowledge Dustin's said anything or that he's even paying attention, but just as Dustin turns he catches Mark's fingers pause, the slight turn of the head towards Eduardo and a deep frown as Mark's brow furrows in thought. Mark's eyes dart back and forth, as if following lines of code in midair, and perhaps he is, reading invisible code only Mark can see or creates to understand life itself, but the moment quickly ends as Mark nods once to himself, seeming to have found the answer he was looking for, and goes back to clicking away at the keys before him as he descends back into code. Dustin is too tired to think, too drunk to care, and just climbs into bed, passing out until morning, and when he wakes it's to find Eduardo gone and Mark sleeping soundly in bed, laptop no where to bee seen.

It's the following week that it finally clicks in Dustin's head, this odd connection between Mark and Eduardo, what it really is. The night in question? It's the night he returns to their shared dorm to a quietly brooding Mark clicking away as always on his Netbook, but this time with a more determined, sour scowl rather than his usual _don't talk to me I'm working_ frown that usually does the trick, forcing others to steer clear (others that aren’t Dustin, Chris or Eduardo anyway). When he takes a moment to look over Mark's shoulder, Dustin slowly pieces together what exactly has transpired through the evening, from Erica dumping Mark to this insane idea that is most probably expulsion worthy but otherwise extremely and totally brilliant, and takes a seat, watching and waiting as Mark's mind pours into the data dumps and code with such an natural flow it's almost like Mark is part of the computer rather than simply being the programmer. When asked for his opinion, Dustin answers with what first comes to mind (which in the morning he will not be able to truly stand behind as he's had far too much to drink and probably won't remember a thing by then), and then he arrives.

Dustin grins madly as he watches Eduardo saunter through their room with a sense of belonging and to the doorway leading to Mark's bedroom area. Mark looks up immediately, as if expecting Eduardo's arrival. It just makes him smile even wider when whatever Mark had planned to ask is momentarily thwarted by Eduardo's usual mother hen concern about Mark and Erica, but more importantly Mark, and then Mark says it.

"I need you."

And automatically, almost robotically, Eduardo's response seems more gut reaction than thought out. "I'm here for you."

It's absurd. It's crazy. Dustin can't help but laugh over this newfound revelation that pops and tumbles and fills his head. This, this explains everything, from Eduardo's mother hen act (that really only extends to Mark now that he is seeing things in a whole new, albeit inebriated, light), to him hanging onto every word Mark says (whether he agrees or not, because most times Eduardo does not agree and voices his disagreement without concern), and dragging Mark down to the dining hall when Mark hasn't left the dorm room the entire day. This is brilliant and fantastic because, while Dustin has finally seen the light and realized the truth, he's 99.9999999999% certain Mark is completely clueless (and he's maybe 85% certain that Eduardo hasn't a clue either). The revelation: In the same sense that Dustin has his little bromance crush on Eduardo, it seems that Eduado has developed his own little bromance crush, with Mark. 

Mark Zuckerberg.

Mark-Computer-Geek-Code-Robot-You-Suck-At-Everything-I-Am-Great-At-And-Even-The-Things-I-Am-Only-Mediocre-At-(Which are very few)-You-Still-Suck-At-More-Than-Me-And-Don't-Even-Think-Of-Asking-My-Opinion-Unless-You-Can-Handle-My-Blunt-Honest-Truth-Zuckerberg.

Dustin starts laughing again, ignoring the looks received from Mark (annoyed) and Eduardo (confused). It's all a bit surreal, but then he catches Chris' eyes from the other room, Chris' smirk and wink, and it's the confirmation he needs to know that this isn't just his own musing, or something he and alcohol and possibly lack of sleep concocted in his head for amusement, but the Gods honest truth because Thank God, Chris sees it too!

~~~~~

Mark is and probably always will be an asshole, of that Erica is one hundred ten percent sure of, but no matter how sure she is, or the fact that she isn't the only one who has walked away from a discussion with the Harvard University student thinking and knowing exactly that, she's also very much aware that the guy comes by it more naturally than truly aiming to be a spiteful and hurtful asshole. In short, Mark Zuckerberg simply can't help himself because it's part and parcel of his nature, but even understanding that, understanding it's more the lack of filter between thought and voice than a vicious bone, Erica isn't a masochist and knows when to cut her losses and walk away. She's too young to waste her time with a guy who isn't ready to change, or willing to change, or can't even see that there are things about him that need to be changed, no matter how much she might have liked him (love is definitely too strong a word and emotion for her first college boyfriend). True, quirks can be overlooked, like biting nails, or alphabetizing the beer bottles in the fridge, or bored procrastination, they might even become part of the reason she may like a guy, but disregard for other people's feelings is a little hard to take no matter the fact Mark doesn't even realize he's crossed the line most times, along with the endless hours of coding and _always_ misunderstanding and taking things she says the wrong way, always _assuming_ she is looking down on him when in reality it's always been _Mark_ looking down on _her_. Yes, it shouldn't have come as a surprise when she simply walked out on him, leaving him with his beer and nothing else.

When Erica first met Mark, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. She was a Freshman at Boston University at the time, while Mark was a Freshman at the city's more prestigious institution. Logically, there's no reason they should have met in the first place, attending different university, but as with all first meetings between future couples, the introduction part is never really planned. Meeting Mark just sort of happened. They were in the right place at the right time (though in hindsight she might question the rightness of their chance meeting), she knowing someone who knew someone else that made the moment possible without plan or even the need to seek each other out. They met at some party on the Harvard campus that a friend of a friend of a friend of hers got invited to. Even though her friend promised not to ditch her the moment they walk through the doors, that is exactly what happened, she abandoning Erica to the masses of unknown faces and strung out hormones, feeling more like a wallflower than invited guest, because honestly, she hadn't personally been invited, and knew no one else there, feeling more like she was crashing, but then again, anything was better than sitting back at her dorm on a Friday night with nothing to do but study while everyone else was out having the time of their life, or at least that's what they all claimed happened everything Friday night (though the hangover retching of the following morning begs to differ most Saturdays). She was left on her own, red plastic cup of questionable alcohol and a wall, surrounded by loud music, obnoxious boys (because even though they were technically men, after one drink they all began acting like immature sixteen year olds again) and flirtatious girls falling for each and every cheesy pick up line. It was after a particularly bad pick up line delivered to her that Erica rolled her eyes dramatically, biting back a scathing rejection, when she noticed Mark across the room in much the same position as she, left to his own devices and matching red plastic cup, alone.

Misery loves company, or is it birds of a feather flock together? Probably, and more aptly put, desperate for some company, at least on her part. It's the only explanation she can come up with to the reason she crossed the room that night and made the first move. Again, she wasn't looking for anyone to hook up with, nor was her intention sparked by any sort of physical, sexual, attraction, but he looked as miserable as she felt, the cup in his hand holding more interest than the girl walking off with an annoyed sneer, that she thought maybe they could be each others crutch for the night, to at least pass the time in company more suited to them than the party crowd surrounding them. 

"Hey," she had said, settling next to the head of curls that pops up in surprise, receiving a suspicious glare. "You look like you could use some company."

When Mark continued staring at her in somewhat disbelief, she offered a smile.

"My name's Erica."

If she had to identify what drew her in after that, it was his eyes. Cool, calculating, always moving and observing and blue. Eventually, after he sized her up, giving away his obvious distrust of everything and anyone, he finally spoke up.

"You're pretty."

How could she not laugh? It was like they were back on the playgrounds of grade school, she expecting him to run off in terror after admitting something so embarrassing, but Mark continued standing there, staring, waiting for her to say something else.

"Thanks? I guess…"

"It was a compliment," Mark added, as if she needed the explanation.

"I think I got that, thanks."

"You're welcome."

And the rest, as they say, is pretty much history. Not an exciting history, or even one worth remembering or passing on to the generations to come, but it was their past, their beginning, their connection that would affect everything to come in the future even if they weren't and still aren't aware of what's to come (or denying it all the same). Her time with Mark, it was strange, and different. It wasn't all bad, nor was it perfect, and while it probably wasn't the most healthy of relationships, there was a reason and purpose for it all the same, something she didn't know the true reason or purpose for, until this very moment when she spots Eduardo Saverin sitting in the corner of a hole in the wall coffee shop that the Harvard students usually wouldn't be caught dead in, but Eduardo, from what she's gleamed in her short time of knowing him, wasn't your normal Harvard elitist.

"Mind if I join you?"

When he looks up, he's startled at first, but he politely smiles and actually stands to offer her the seat across from him, pulling out the chair like a gentleman and not sitting until she has already settled. He looks like a deer in headlights when he retakes his seat and meets her eyes, his own wide, innocent, and questioning.

"How are you holding up?"

Word travels fast now of days, what with the Internet and the fast growing in popularity Facebook. It is no secret Eduardo is heading into the battle of the century, suing his one time business partner and best friend. This knowledge is probably one of the reasons Eduardo is hiding out here, not that he's embarrassed by what happened or the fact he's been forced to this point, but the guy is kind of private and she can't even imagine how the other students of Harvard act towards him now. Some probably want to high-five him for putting the _little shit_ in his place, while others are on the other end of the spectrum wishing Eduardo would simply disappear. It has to be rough balancing the lawsuit, school, and public perception, and as such, Erica figures he could use a friendly face and a bit of comradery. 

Eduardo slumps back in his seat, fingers rubbing at drooping and probably soar eyes, releasing a heavy sigh that spoke more than the guy was probably willing to really admit.

"Managing," he replies, looking back at her. "I'm just tired really. Everything else…"

When he trails off without finishing that last thought, she picks up and finishes it for him.

"Everything else just sucks."

He snorts a less than humorous laugh and shakes his head.

"Everything else is just what it is."

"Still, it sucks what Mark did," she adds, wondering if there really is anyone he has to talk to about all that's happened and going on, especially with Chris and Dustin still being important parts of the whole Facebook phenomenon. "Mark is just being…"

"Mark is just being Mark," Eduardo interrupts, assuming he knows what she's trying to say but hitting so far off the mark it's pitiful.

"No, what I was going to say is Mark is just being an asshole as usual…"

Eduardo flushes then, not deeply, but it's a noticeable pinking of his cheeks, and he looks down clearly embarrassed about something in that statement. 

"He's… He's not really…"

"Hah! Eduardo, you forget that I dated the guy for nearly a year. Trust me, he is definitely an asshole, or at least has asshole-ish tendencies."

"Perhaps," Eduardo nods, leaning forward to drink from the cup of coffee that looks to be a bit cool judging by the grimace after his swallow. "But Mark… "

"Can't help himself," she says, taking a swig of her own still piping hot coffee. "But it's still no excuse. 

"Maybe I'm the asshole," Eduardo comments, spinning his throwaway cup in his hands, eyes watching as the liquid within swirls with the motion. "Maybe it was my fault."

"Please, if anyone was in the wrong it's…"

"But that's just it… perhaps we were both…"

The fact this guy, the one who was always picking up after Mark and mothering him more than Mark's own girlfriend, was defending Mark like they were still best friends was something Erica never expected given the circumstances. Then again, Eduardo isn't just any guy. He's devoted to those he cares about, and that kind of attachment, friendship, doesn't all the sudden die just because his shares in a company he co-founded were dwindled down to nothing. There is more to life than money and fame and notoriety. 

"And perhaps you're right. Maybe this all is both your faults, but does that really excuse what happened? What he did to his best friend?"

Eduardo is quiet then, sunk further in his seat like a petulant child getting scolded for something he wasn't aware he did wrong. 

"Listen, I didn't sit down here to argue about what happened," Erica says, reaching out and resting a hand on Eduardo's arm. "I just wanted to offer an ear if you needed it. I know with Chris and Dustin being in the middle… you may not have anyone to just vent to."

When he looks up and meets her eyes, there is true thankfulness shining back at her and she knows then she made the right decision here.

"Thanks, that really means a lot to me."

Erica shrugs, pulling back. 

"It's the least I can do. Call it payback for all you did for me when Mark and I dated," she says, drinking her coffee again.

"What? I didn't do…"

"Come on, you and I both know if it wasn't for you Mark would be a bit malnourished and crusty and who knows what might have started growing in those curls of his without a proper washing now and again."

Eduardo laughs then, a good, hearty and honest laugh, one that makes his mouth grin widely and his eyes crinkle shut. If nothing else that smile and laugh tell her she did her job here today.

"He wasn't that bad," Eduardo chides, defending his once friend again, a habit most likely more than any merit.

"Okay, maybe not that bad, but think of me as reciprocating in Mark's place, just a few months late."

"Erica, why don't we just introduce ourselves and be friends outside of our past," Eduardo suggests, sitting up straight and reaching his hand across the table, smiling. "My name is Eduardo Saverin." 

Erica returns his smile, and takes hold of Edurdo's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you Eduardo. My name is Erica."

And that is how Erica Albright became friends with Eduardo Saverin, outside of the past they shared revolving around a curly-haired asshole (Erica's words). They maintained a weekly coffee date at the hidden coffee house, some days being better than others for Eduardo, the worst of days being when he returned to the East Coast after the depositions, a little bit richer (a whole lot richer Erica suspects) but no more happier than he was before the lawsuit, but then again, it was never about the money for Eduardo. When they graduate and go their separate ways, Eduardo eventually leaving the States all together for Singapore, their standing coffee dates are relegated to phone calls and video chatting no fail. 

"Thanks, Erica," Eduardo says one night before they sign off, a wistful-melancholy reflecting in his eyes.

"God, for what?"

Eduardo laughs and shakes his head. "Nothing, just thanks for being a really good friend."

"You're such a sap," Erica teases back, but smiling all the same. "You're a really good friend too."

~~~~~

Mark learns the hard way the ins and outs of friendship. He learns the beginnings, the middles, the ends; the conveniences, the necessities, the needs, the wants. He doesn't learn about friendship and being a good and loyal friend by seeking out the people who have touched and shaped and shifted his life, but more by looking across the booth in some dingy bar after a long night of emergency coding and catching Dustin grinning broadly back at him, a hiccup of a giggle escaping as an empty mug of beer hits the tabletop harder than planned, but it doesn't stop Dustin's smile nor the one Mark can't help returning. He's learned friendship by example, and maybe a few years too late, but he's learned nonetheless.

"What a night, _Boss Man_ ," Dustin comments, motioning for a refill and snickering at the slumped form of Chris propped up in the corner next to Mark snoring and oblivious to the ruckus of the bar, and its music, and patrons (more than half of them from the Facebook offices). 

He never asked for this, _them_ , but at this moment, years beyond their past and many more from their destined future, he doesn't regret letting Chris and Dustin in and, he will never truly admit to this, but getting attached to them, needing them in ways he doesn't really understand yet does all the same. Dustin with his free-caring, obnoxious but oddly idealistic enthusiasm, and down to earth and grounded Chris, who is the only one to keep a level head when shit hits the fan (like tonight), and makes it all better in the end, dealing with what Mark doesn't have the time or patience (and definitely not courtesy) for. He doesn't know how they ended up here, still connected, still friends, after everything that has transpired, after all the fan-hitting-shit even Chris couldn’t smooth out in the wake of lawsuits and settlements and broken friendships, but here they are, and here he hopes they will stay.

"How many times…" Mark begins, a poor attempt to distract his wayward thoughts, ready to admonish Dustin for pointing out a rank that Mark doesn't even feel he's entitled to and knows all the same it is the only thing that separates them.

Instead of quieting down and listening (because when has Dustin ever really quieted down) Dustin waves him off, having heard the admonishment over and over, far too many times in the past and resigned to this not being the last. "Yeah, yeah, I know you like to believe you are still back in that Harvard dorm room coding everyone else into the ground, but you are still the Boss Man in my eyes, so deal and have another drink."

He returns Dustin's happy grin with a derisive smirk, because this argument will never get old, and never be settled. Even years down the line, when Dustin leaves to spread his own wings (because Mark is not stupid and knows eventually, both Chris and Dustin will move on from Facebook), he will still refer to Mark as Boss-man, and Chris as their Fairy God Mother (no derogatory pun intended per Dustin and totally accepted by Chris), and Wardo… yeah, Dustin still to this day makes reference to their wayward D'Artagnan (to which Mark has always argued the name being absurd since Wardo was older than all three of them) who Dustin staunchly believes will return to their band of brothers (Musketeers, Dustin would correct if he were in Mark's head), someday.

He sometimes thinks Dustin likes using the code name for Wardo believing that just uttering the nickname Mark gave their friend (because really, he was never an Eduardo to Mark) in Mark's presence would unleash some sort of three headed monster that will wreak havoc on the land around them, and while that may have been true in the beginning, and even now on some truly crappy days when all Mark wants is for Wardo to walk through the door and make everything better just by simply being there, he never had the heart to inform Dustin that just the thought alone of Wardo, albeit in name or whispered code, was all it really took for that downward spiral. In the beginning, it was extremely difficult to rein such a demonstrative reaction (he doesn’t like referring to it as an emotion), which explained away many a late night coding tear that left Mark exhausted with dark circles and starvation pangs, but it's gotten better as time has passed. 

Yes, time has definitely helped in the healing process (Chris' words), that and the fact that Wardo and he are once again on speaking terms (not that he's been open about this change with anyone). Granted, even that took some time, and a handful of shareholder meetings and mutually attended business gatherings and high priced dinner engagements (all of which he was forced to attend at Chris' hands), but eventually, the curt nods across the boardroom turned into shared smirks at comments made by some of the older shareholders. Stiff handshakes when surrounded by a group of peers at some benefit or another turned into a friendly drink at the bar. Then a day when they were leaving one of the more boring and drawn out meetings prior to the winter holidays (every holiday you could ever imagine was celebrated by at least one of his employees), Wardo lagged behind (Chris and Dustin sharing strange questioning looks that Wardo didn't even care to pay attention to as they took their own leave) until it was just the two of them remaining in the now wide-open room, and when he finally gave Wardo his full attention (because Wardo has always held Mark's peripheral attention) Wardo smiled, a honest to goodness _it's good to see you again_ smile and said, "Do you want to get a drink?"

He'd like to believe it was all downhill from there, but getting to where they are today (he doesn't dare place the label _friends_ on it, not yet), it's definitely been a more uphill struggle to maintain and not overstep any lines or push any buttons that could end everything before it really begins again. What is strange really is that while having Wardo back in his world is a challenge he faces each and every day, in the same breath it isn't too dissimilar to their first meeting back in Harvard. They just sort of happen and end up working again, even with an ocean between them most of the time and their exchanges being down to typed words across a screen because their available hours and schedules are never in sync, but Mark will take whatever Wardo is willing and able to offer. 

His thoughts are cut off by the vibration in his pocket and Mark quickly retrieves his cell phone, more worried about it being the office sending out a white flag again because while he does have confidence in the resolution put in place a few short hours ago, it's always his first thought when he receives a call, but when he looks down he realizes it's an incoming text from Wardo and can't help the smile that quirks the side of his mouth.

_OMG! You really need a private jet. Delayed again._

He quickly shoots out a return text.

_Not my fault you live on the other side of the world. I hate flying btw._

When he closes his phone and looks across the table to tune back into whatever drivel Dustin is going on about now he's met with a slack-jaw and wide-open stare. His brow immediately wrinkles in confusion.

"What?"

Dustin's jaw snaps shut, right before he begins sputtering. "Are… are you… are you seeing someone?"

Mark jerks when his cell phone vibrates in his hand, and replies, "Well, you're sitting in front of me."

Wardo's text reads, _I know, I know, but one of us should… a joint venture maybe. Defray the expense._

He snorts and sends back, _I don't think we're stable enough to share such responsibility._

"You are seeing someone!" Dustin crows, pointing at Mark, the shout startling Chris awake. "Chris did you know about this and not tell me? You're keeping secrets!"

Chris blinks a Dustin a moment before turning to Mark and asking, "What's he talking about?"

Mark shrugs (helpful as always is the look Chris is giving him) before checking the next incoming text.

 _You're right. We need to start small…_

"Oh my God! You're talking!" Mark is in his own world when Chris' shocked surprise brings him back to the table's other occupants. Chris grips his arm (amazing strength for a man who was asleep only moments before), pulling it closer to see the screen before looking up at Dustin beseechingly. "He's talk… their talking!"

Mark yanks his arm away from Chris and glares at him. Dustin for his part looks confused at first, eyes flitting back and forth between Chris and Mark and the phone in Mark's hand before the light bulb flickers on and it's all Mark can do to keep himself from sliding down his seat to hide from what is surely going to be an explosive sound of giddy happiness, exactly the reason he'd been keeping quiet about Wardo. Dustin doesn't disappoint.

There is an embarrassing explosion of joy (of which Dustin will deny he sounded anything like a girl, but Mark will emphatically disagree and Chris will back him up on), and stuttered words that don't really make a full or comprehensive sentence, but the gist of it is still very clear.

"You… he… I… talking… why… you didn't… why?"

Next to him, Chris snorts, but he doesn't have time to glare, or bite out anything vehement, or even to get up and simply walk away because Dustin is up and around the table hugging him something fierce, and there is nothing Mark can do but submit to the intrusion of personal space and let the matter take its course. The more he struggles the longer the moment will last, something Mark has learned the hard way over the years.

"I told you… I told you our D'Artagnan would come back," Dustin is saying to Chris over Mark's shoulder, but then he stiffens against Mark and pulls back, giving him a determined and angry look. "How long, and why didn't _you_ tell us? Why didn't _he_ tell us?"

Mark straightens in the booth, hand gripping his phone tighter as it vibrates again, but he doesn't dare read it just yet.

"I told him not to," he answers the last question first. "And it's really none of your business."

Dustin snorts, shaking his head. "Of course it's our business. We're friends… all of us. Why didn't you want him to tell us? Why didn't you want to tell us?"

Mark shrugs, feeling small and really ill-prepared for such a conversation. He was sure he had at least another six month before he might have to tell Chris and Dustin, and that is if he and Wardo made it another six months without messing anything up. He just doesn't trust himself with Wardo (never really has in his entire life). Back at Harvard, he never tried maintaining friendships because he really didn't understand how or even cared to put that kind of time and effort into something that in four years would simply end, but here they are now, more than four years down the road and Chris and Dustin are still here, and if it hadn't been for the business aspect of their relationship, Mark knows that Wardo would be here too. Mark knows if he had been as good a friend with Wardo as Wardo was with him, Wardo _would_ still be here, and now it's up to Mark to make things right again, not that everything in their past was all his fault, but it's now his turn to make the effort, giving his time, his energy, even when he has nothing left to give, to make this thing work with Wardo. To bring Wardo home (or at least anywhere that is closer than Singapore).

"Mark!"

"I don't know!" He shouts back, because he doesn't want to admit to being really bad at this friendship thing, not just with Wardo but Chris and Dustin as well. If there was anyone he opened up to about all this it would be Chris and Dustin, and yet he also didn't want to get their hopes up when he spectacularly fails in the end. "I just… I don't even know what is going on. We're talking… just… talking."

When he looks over at Chris, he receives a raised eyebrow that says more than he'd like to be reading from it.

_Seriously?_

_Are you really that bad at this friendship thing?_

_Do you really not get it?_

Mark shakes his head and looks away.

"Mark," Chris says, hand squeezing the back of his neck. "You know this is okay, right? That we won't judge…"

"I know that!" He growls back, crossing his arms and pulling away from the warmth on his neck (that doesn't really relent, but he refuses to admit to blushing), still ignoring the vibrating in his hand. "I don't know… I don't even know what is going on okay? I just… I like it… him… having him in my life again and I don't want…"

"You don't want to blow it," Dustin surprises them both, knowing exactly what Mark is thinking, which only makes Mark sink into his seat again, especially when Dustin (wiser than he lets on) continues. "Mark, it's Wardo. No matter what you do, you can't blow this."

"You do remember the lawsuit and ruthless business practices? I've blown it before, what's to stop it from happening again?"

"You've grown up," Chris answers matter-of-factly, Dustin nodding along with wide, sincere eyes. "We've all grown up, and while you're still you in the center of everything, you aren't the same kid we all met back in Harvard. None of us are, not even Wardo, no matter what you may want to believe. We've all changed on some level, it's all part of growing up and you're not giving Wardo enough credit if you think he expects you to be perfect even now."

The phone in his hand vibrates again.

"You probably should respond to him. Knowing Wardo, he's worried he's said something wrong," Chris adds with a nod to the ignored phoned.

Mark excuses himself from his friends and heads for the door, taking a step out into the less stagnant air and pulls in more than a few deep breaths to center himself before flipping open his phone to read the build-up of incoming messages.

_Hah! Perhaps a dog would be best… though where would he live._

_Okay, that might have been a bit… forward and assuming._

_Mark?_

_Mark._

Mark hits the reply button and begins typing away.

_It's okay. Chris and Dustin know. Hope that's okay._

It doesn't take long for Wardo's reply to come back.

_About time. Maybe when I get in we can all get together?_

Mark smiles down at his phone's display, feeling at ease probably for the first time in a very long time, not having realized how much he's truly been worrying about this whole thing with Wardo and the possibility of losing him all over again. Mark is surprised to see the next unprompted text pop-up on his screen.

_It'll be nice spending time with all my friends, together, when I'm in town._

And while Mark really doesn't want to share his Wardo time with anyone else, not even Chris and Dustin, he gets a warm feeling in his chest all the same seeing Wardo put a name to what this tentative thing is between them, what Mark didn't even dare name on his own. Friendship. It's been six months since that fateful shareholder's meeting, six months he never saw coming no matter how he hoped it would. It's just another step in his process of learning how to be a good friend, how to listen, how to communicate, and how to not push because he needs instant gratification, acknowledgement that he's doing the right thing. Sometimes, he just has to let matters take their course and trust that if he's done something wrong, made the wrong step, Wardo will tell him and when Wardo does, Mark will listen this time.

~~~~~

He hasn't even claimed a seat before it starts again, sliding in next to Mark who occupies one half of the cramped booth they've claimed for the evening. It's just another night out for their small group of friends, at a well patronized and loved establishment that most of the programmers can walk in, in whatever they are wearing, and feel comfortable no matter the time of day. Eduardo, for his part, would probably be considered a bit overdressed, but no one says anything, from his friends to the hostess, who really is just a glorified waitress if one were to get technical. Even in his thousand dollar suit (the one Mark likes to tease has been sown with gold thread), he doesn't feel like the odd man out next to Mark in his hoodie and cargo pants, Dustin in some absurd retro T-shirt and jeans, and Chris (who is the most dressed-up of the Facebook team) in his button down cotton long-sleeved. Eduardo just nods to them all, waves down a waitress and slips off his suit jacket, relaxing into the company of his friends.

"Wardo, have I got the _absolutely_ , you will kiss the ground I walk on, _perfect_ girl to hook you up with," Dustin begins, grin beaming from ear to ear as he waggles his eyes. "And, she's _Asian_!"

Eduardo for his part laughs, and shakes his head, quietly thanking the waitress when she delivers his beer. This is pretty much the _status quo_ when they get together like this. Dustin and Chris are always on him about _getting out there_ , especially since it's been nearly a year since he moved back to the States. He knows they mean well, he really does, but it's getting harder and harder coming up with plausible excuses as to why he isn't interested. Especially when Dustin cites, _Jesus, I'm not asking you to marry the girl… just go out with her_ , each time he turns a date down.

"Dustin…" he begins, looking over at Mark scowling into his beer. "I never asked you…"

"Of course you never asked, you're too polite to ask for help getting laid."

He chokes on his pull of beer while next to him Mark slams his own bottle down on the table. Dustin and Chris spare a glance towards Mark, but see nothing unusual apparently, and turn back to him.

"Hey, I'm with Dustin here. I think it's time you got yourself out there," Chris adds, joining Dustin's _Get Wardo Laid_ scheme. "You've been back, what? A year? And how many dates have you been on since?"

Eduardo looks down at his beer bottle, his leg nervously shaking beneath the table. "I've been… busy."

"Well, get _unbusy_ , because this date is happening and set for tomorrow night," Dustin adds with a satisfied smirk that only intensifies as Eduardo feels his own eyes widen in shock.

"What?"

"Yup," Dustin nods proudly. "You and Sarah have a date, tomorrow night, at seven sharp. Come on Wardo, live a little. She's really nice and I think…"

"If she's so nice why don't _you_ date her," Eduardo shoots back, cutting Dustin off.

Chris snorts. "He tried and was pretty much shot down… which kind of adds to how perfect she is… Ow!"

Dustin's punch to Chris' arm distracts the two matchmakers for a second or two, giving Eduardo a chance to check on Mark who is pretty much glaring daggers at their friends. Eduardo decides it's time to set the record straight then and there, because this just can't go on, not now and not in the future.

"Listen, guys, I really appreciate what you've done, and I get that you care but… the thing is… I'm kind of… well, not kind of, I am… I'm already seeing someone." He finishes with an innocent smile, much to Chris and Dustin's shocked expressions staring back. Out of the corner of his eye, Eduardo can see Mark sit up a little straighter, and feel Mark's own knee bouncing nervously next to Eduardo's.

"You dog! When did this happen? Is it serious? Do we know her? Is she _Asian_?"

"What is up with you and the Asians?" Chris says, looking at Dustin as if he's insane (which Mark would say is Chris' normal look in regards to Dustin). 

"What? They're hot!"

"Oh. My. God. Why am I even friends with you?"

"Because you love me," Dustin answers, batting his eyes and leaning heavily against Chris' shoulder.

"Fuck off," Chris says affectionately, shoving a laughing Dustin into the corner of the booth before turning his attention to Eduardo. "But seriously, when did this happen?"

Eduardo looks between Dustin and Chris' hopeful faces, and then to Mark who is patiently waiting to see where this is going, an almost smug look about him. When he turns back to his friends, he answers truthfully.

"Um… It kind of started before I moved back?" He doesn't mean for it to sound like a question, but even he has a hard time actually pinpointing when this all began again, their friendship, them dating, _them_. 

"Wait!" Chris shouts. "You're not talking about Erica, are you? I mean I know you two were close after…"

"What?" The smug look has disappeared from Mark's face, replaced by shocked confusion. "My Erica?"

"Woops," Dustin says under his breath, finding everything around them other than Mark more interesting to look at, leaving Chris out to dry. 

"We're friends, and she's not _your_ anything," Eduardo states emphatically to Mark first before turning to address Dustin and Chris. "And we are friends, _just friends_. Nothing more, nothing less, okay?"

"Okay, but that doesn't leave a lot of options," Chris says, drinking from his nearly empty beer and motioning for the waitress to bring more. "Is this someone from Singapore?"

Dustin gets interested again, because clearly the man has a one track mind. "Does she have a sister?"

"Guys, it isn't anyone for Singapore, and it isn't a girl!"

"Damnit!" Dustin curses loudly before turning on Chris. "How did you know! Is it some kind of gay telepathy or something? Something more powerful than the gaydar?"

Chris looks too triumphant to chastise Dustin for the comments, holding out his hand as Dustin digs in his pocket. 

"Why couldn't you be straight?" Dustin says, smacking a twenty dollar bill into Chris' hand, which Eduardo finds rather unsatisfying when he thinks about the digits each of their checking accounts hold.

"Anyway," Chris says, pocketing the twenty. "Then who's the lucky guy?"

Again, Eduardo looks between Chris and Dustin, before stealing a glance at Mark, who just shrugs and takes a swig of beer. It's now or never.

"Mark."

Dustin and Chris blink back him.

"You know… _Mark_."

Dustin and Chris look at each other, then Eduardo and then Mark, before breaking out in matching grins, laughing, and Eduardo thinks maybe, maybe this won't be so bad. After all the worrying and preparing for the worst of reactions (more so on Mark's part than his own), perhaps it's all been for naught. Dustin and Chris are their closest friends and have been their friends the longest. Surely they will get it, but in the end, that is not what happens. What doesn't help is Mark's unwillingness to prove they aren't playing a practical joke on their friends just to get them to leave Eduardo alone (out of principal is what Mark will claim later). 

"Oh man, that was a good one guys, seriously," Dustin states between laughs and wiping at his eyes. "Fine, I'll call off the date with Sarah and promise never to push you again… wait… does that mean you are straight?"

Only Dustin. "Trust me, Chris won that bet."

Dustin crosses his arms and sinks into his seat to pout. While this really wasn't a plan to get Dustin to call off his _Get Wardo Laid_ scheme, thankfully it does work all the same.

He doesn't understand why it's so hard to believe that Mark and he are together. Then again, even he has to pinch himself now and again in affirmation that yes, he is here, they are here, together, after all these years and the stupid ignorance and innocent heartbreak and stubborn, stubborn, stubborn pride. He pinches himself each time he wakes in the morning to Mark sitting cross-legged next to him in bed, laptop perched on knees but the moment Eduardo stirs, whatever Mark is doing, whatever he's been working on, is easily forgotten as he's greeted a good morning with a kiss and fingers lingering in his hair. He pinches himself each time he arrives home after another crappy day of not being able to find the perfect place to set up office (he's been renting a place he doesn't like for far too long) and finds Mark already there (the man knowing what kind of day Eduardo's had via phone and text conversations) and a dinner waiting (Mark nervously biting his thumb). He pinches himself each time they crawl into bed together, exhausted and completely fed up with the outside world that takes up more time than they'd like, and it's only then, when Mark settles next to him and they curl into each other, that everything from the day simply melts away, because no matter what it's all worth it in the end if they can at least have this.

Perhaps if it was just one of their friends out of the small group of barely half a dozen people they both socialize with that didn't believe them it might be understandable, but each and every one of them had ended up looking at Eduardo like he'd grown a second (possibly third) head (while skepticism and looks of _dude, this is not funny_ are shot Mark's way) and laugh, thinking in the end Mark and he are just having fun at their expense. The fact their friends don't believe them doesn't hurt so much as disappoints Eduardo.  
Granted, it's not as if Mark and he are all that forthcoming with their affections in public, and he doesn't dare use that word in front of Mark while trying to talk Mark down from the rant he's currently being subjected to after returning home from another night out with a few other friends and acquaintances that again don't believe. Hell, even when he finally told Erica she snorted and told him to call her back when he had sobered up. Their secrecy before had been more for Mark's sake than his own, it's hard enough being out in public as just friends without having the press try to chase down pictures and details of what is really none of their business, but after everything they've all been through, he'd at least like to think their friends would be a little more understanding and less assuming than they were.

"Maybe they have a point," Mark says, pacing their bedroom, biting at the side of his thumb again. 

Eduardo sits down on the bed and sighs, slipping off his socks and pitching them towards the corner in frustration. "What do you mean?"

Mark stops pacing, catching Eduardo's eyes with his own and it's the vulnerability staring back at him that has Eduardo's stomach clenching before it drops. 

"I mean, it's logical, right?"

"Mark, I don’t even know what…"

"Denial, a defense mechanism," Mark continues, his mouth spilling out incomplete thoughts without any regard to Eduardo's comprehension (or lack thereof), as if talking to himself. "I mean, the last time… no matter what any of them said about there being no affect… I know there was and I was lucky they stayed by my side… not that they chose sides, you have to know that, but I was lucky, you know."

" _Mark_ …" Eduardo says quietly, trying to get Mark to stop, because this way (belittling himself) lies nothing that will do either or any of them any good.

"They know," Mark continues, shaking his head and pacing again. "It's not that they don't believe us but, they know. They just… they know."

He watches Mark's movements slow, as if the pacing is distracting Mark from his rapidly calculating thoughts, code if Eduardo were a guessing man, which he is, and knowing Mark the way he does he knows that is exactly what the other man is doing, breaking everything down into parts of code until the output makes sense.

"History is full of and based on repetitive cycles, good and bad. It's human nature to fall back on the past. Why didn't I see this…" Before Mark can even finish that train of thought, Eduardo is up and standing in front of him, hands gripping Mark's biceps, wanting to shake the negativity and uncertainty out of the man but refraining.

"Mark, stop… stop thinking in code! We're people, not some program or website you're designing. _People_."

Mark looks startled when he meets Eduardo's eyes. "Programming… People… it all boils down to logic, different logic, but logic nonetheless, so long as you know the variables."

"We are not variables, Mark."

"How so?" Mark asks so innocently it's strangely more endearing than frustrating (even though Eduardo is frustrated all the same). "People are variables, their reactions, their… emotions, and we all now how this ended before…"

"Mark, that's just it, we aren't the same variables as before, not entirely. We're the same but different. We've been affected by the past, learned from it and are better for it. Please tell me you get that. Please tell me that you know we're not some ship doomed to sink before it sets sail, right?"

The fact Mark refuses to meet his eyes says more than any admittance or confirmation Mark could have uttered. Eduardo pulls Mark in, arms wrapping around his boyfiend, and hugs Mark harder than he's ever before, willing the person he loves most in the world to believe and trust in him, in them as much as Eduardo does. 

"Ouch," Mark startles, Eduardo chuckling in return. "Did you just pinch me?"

Eduardo pulls back and smiles. "It's real you know. You and me, this is real. I just thought you needed a little reminder."

Mark snorts, pulling Eduardo back in, neck stretching to rest his chin on Eduardo's shoulder. Perhaps if everyone saw this Mark, the one who isn't so emotionally closed off with his head buried in a computer screen most days, they would get it and believe. Not that Mark is one hundred percent open with Eduardo himself, but the man has made significant progress since their time at Harvard (Hell, even since they started talking again), but maybe then they would see that Mark and he aren't reliving their mistakes from the past but rather moving on from them, having learned from the past, and are lucky enough to have recaptured what had actually been really, really good between them all those years ago.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Eduardo says, but he doesn't make any attempts at coordinating his limbs to follow suit, content with just holding onto Mark for as long as Mark (and really he himself) needs it.

"You're just trying to distract me."

"Perhaps," Eduardo agrees and laughs, they both laugh, and it feels good, this, feels good, like it always does. "I'm not the one whose alarms it set for five A.M. though."

Mark groans into his neck, and Eduardo tightest his arms around Mark's waist a little more. "I hate being CEO."

" _Liar_ ," Eduardo chides playfully, pulling away to walk around the bed, unbuttoning his shirt as he goes.

"You're right," Mark agrees, pulling his T-shirt up over his head and tossing it in the same direction as Eduardo's socks from earlier. "It is fun bossing Dustin around… he is going to pay dearly for trying to set you up… again."

Eduardo chuckles quietly, and they both continue undressing, their clothes making a combined heap in the corner that Eduardo will collect and sort out in the morning. Once they are down to boxers and briefs, they slip into bed, not taking long to settle in a tangle of limbs and arms, curled around each other as usual, breaths mingling between them. 

"You know I love you right? No matter what anyone says or believes," Eduardo quietly speaks into the darkness, forehead pressed against Mark's. 

"I know," Mark replies equally as quiet, hand cupping Eduardo's cheek as he leans in to press a reverent kiss, leaning more towards chaste than passionate, before pulling away to add, "I love you too."

While they've shared hundreds of comfortable nights like this, exhausted and needing that little bit of reassurance from each other, this is the first time Eduardo doesn't need to pinch himself into believe it is real.

~~~~~

It isn't like Chris to be forgetful. He can't afford to be with holding the position he does at Facebook. One missed detail, one forgotten event could delve Facebook into a pit of negative publicity that even his years of experience (albeit experience learned on the job and at the hands of a public relation's nightmare), but he is human as he's learned time and again, today being one of those days where it's late, far later than a normal nine to five job dictates, and it isn't until he's standing next to his car with empty pockets that he realizes his keys are still sitting on the corner of his desk. Sighing tiredly, thinking of his boyfriend waiting at home who is far more understanding than Chris believes he deserves (and thanking any deity listening that Dustin left hours ago thus skirting the endless teasing he'd face in the morning had Dustin been witness to such forgetfulness), Chris pivots and heads back to the Facebook building in hopes of making it to his office and back again before anyone notices his presence.

The main floor of the Facebook offices is never quiet, there is always a crew of staff on site, mainly a group manning the servers and tweaking at new projects as downtime allows, keeping the ship afloat. They've experienced their fair share of crashes in the past that only the employees showing as much promise as Mark himself exuded in his younger days are allowed to work the night shift, not that others couldn't make their way to such a coveted status (Mark's approval being something akin to a king knighting a noble), but until a person proved their ability, only the best were given such responsibility. Mark wouldn't sleep at night any other way, and if there is one thing Chris knows that Mark may deny time and again, it is that the man is not a robot and does require sleep.

Not a single programmer looks up as Chris makes his way to his office, fingers clicking away at keyboards and a few testing out a new application. When Chris opens his office door, as he knew they would be, his keys sit exactly where he left them that morning, perched on the outside desk corner nearest the door so he wouldn't forget them upon his exit. Chris laughs at himself as he grabs them, shutting his light out and closing the door again to make his trek back to the parking lot and home for some much needed boyfriend time, but of course Chris' life is never that easy or simple. He's stopped before stepping more than a foot from his office by raised voices coming from across the open floor plan, Mark's office. He can't hear what's being said, but there is no missing the muffled, agitated sounds coming through the closed door. Chris' feet pivot once more and he finds himself heading toward Mark's office, concerned perhaps this is a berating of an employee and preparing for whatever damage control he'll be asked to handle in the morning, but when he gets close enough to understand the words being traded back and forth his footsteps falter.

"…you do remember that you are the CEO and that your job isn't just programming anymore, right? You hire and pay people to do this now."

_Eduardo?_

"I'm not being stupid," Mark returns. "And of course I know I'm CEO, I'm reminded of that every day I come in here and people either stop talking as I pass or scatter to the other end of the building."

A moment of quiet passes, the words and Mark's obviously hurt but not really caring feelings expressed even if Mark hadn't planned on it, and Chris knows Eduardo's picked up on the admittance all the same.

" _Mark_ ," Eduardo says gently. "You don't need to prove…"

"Of course I do, I've had to all my life. Things are _different_ , but nothing's really _changed_. If I take on just the CEO role, delegate and expect things to get done, I know it will get done, in the end, but I'll be walked all over in the process and never really know what's going on. If I'm CEO and take on an equal role with programming, they may respect and resent me, but at least I will be next to them, challenging them, and proving to them that I am still part of all of this. I won't be in the dark."

Chris isn't surprised by Mark's trust issues, the guy has had them for as long as Chris has known Mark, even longer. After the whole cutting Eduardo out and the depositions and settlements, trusting people (Chris and Dustin included) got even worse, but he'd thought Mark had made progress in the last couple years (especially with _Wardo_ back in the picture), but obviously that wasn't the case after all. Chris is in the process of making a mental note to broach the subject with Mark in the morning when his thought process is derailed by Eduardo's next words.

"Mark… come home."

_What?_

Eduardo sounds exhausted, not just from the day but as if he's had this discussion with Mark more than this one time, but it's not the exhaustion he can hear, rather the _plea_ in Eduardo's voice that catches Chris off guard, not to mention the use of the word _home_.

"Wardo…"

"Mark, this will all be here in the morning, come on," Eduardo tries again, the sound of items being put away along with quiet non-word protests, adding. "I've barely seen you all week. Can you blame a guy for wanting to see his boyfriend at least once in a day?"

There is a mumble of words, Chris can hazard a guess (knowing Mark) as being, _You're seeing me now_ , which receives the following response.

"You know what I mean. Come on, I'm driving, and I'll drop you off in the morning," Eduardo doesn't say so much as politely orders and Chris assumes Mark silently obeys as there are no further words exchanged. 

It isn't until Chris hears the twist of the doorknob that he finds himself jumping back (surprised of his own close proximity to Mark's door) and is met with two equally startled set of eyes looking back at him. Chris feels he's stumbled into Dustin territory, overstepping a line he himself normally wouldn't, understanding a person's need for privacy and respecting it more than their mutual friend would, who only claims to have everyone's best interest at heart. Strangely, it is Mark who shakes out of the uncomfortable stalemate first.

" _Chris_ ," he says, more acknowledgement than questioning why he's there because while Mark may care, may be _embarrassed_ , he isn't one to admit it all the same.

Chris, for his part, can only blink, opening and closing his mouth to say something but not, because really, what was there to say when finally realizing he's laughed in the faces of two of his best friends when they finally shared a very personal part of their lives with him? What does he say when he himself didn't trust them enough to believe?

"I'll see you in the morning?" Mark continues, eyes not moving from Chris', daring Chris to utter a single negative word but not even flinching all the same, and all Chris can do is nod his response, guilt clogging his throat. "Good."

Mark steps by Chris, but not before taking hold of Eduardo's hand and pulling the still startled Eduardo along. Eduardo offers Chris a quick and apologetic smile, one Chris doesn't feel he deserves, and follows after Mark, catching up so they are more side by side than out of step. Chris watches them go, fingers now slotted together, and he wonders in that moment why he didn't see this before? It isn't until Mark and Eduardo are out of sight that the sounds of the office come back into focus, loud in the overall general white-noise quiet, and finds it jarring that no one has paid them any mind, work having continued as usually, like this isn't anything out of the ordinary, but then it hits him like a freight train.

This is normal.

To all these people gathered and working away simply because it's their job and not out of having any kind of loyalty to their company's creator, Mark and Eduardo, together, is simply normal, and that thought alone leaves Chris feeling more like a heel than gobsmacked by surprise. He realizes then that he owes his friends an epic apology, which will most likely be accompanied by his fair share of groveling for their forgiveness. Yet, for as much as Chris hates himself now, he can't help the smile that spreads his mouth as he gradually makes his way out of the office again, because after all is said and done, after all they've been through, in the end, Chris is really happy for them.

~~~~~

Dustin likes his job, loves it actually, and if he's being an adult (for a change), because really being a twenty-something millionaire dictates he is, in fact, an _adult_ , his job is _actually_ a career, and it's a career he really and truly _loves_. Granted, it still boggles his mind some mornings, walking through the programming department, that all these people report to him, _him_ , and it takes the good part of those particular mornings to shake off the ineptness that wiggles its way into his head. Before Facebook, Dustin's never really been responsible for leading any _one_ person, let alone a whole department of people of a million dollar company, but once he's had his caffeine for the morning, and resolved some minor (sometimes major) issue one of _his_ employees has brought to light, the ineptitude gradually slips away and his day begins like any other.

He'd been asked once, shortly after Facebook became the icon it is known as today, if not for Facebook, what would he have chosen for his lifelong career? At the time, he was still young (experience-wise) and with the speed in which Facebook really came to be, his answer was, _I don't know_ , and it was probably the most honest one he could have given. Even today, Dustin knows deep down he won't be an integral part of Facebook _forever_. Eventually he will move on, but to what, isn't very clear at the present time, and Dustin is completely fine with that. He loves what he does now, but if he could, maybe for a day, do something completely different, he'd like to give a go at being a party planner. 

Dustin has mentioned this to Chris once during one of the many parties he's organized for Facebook's employees during the first year or two. He was five beers in of course, they both were, and Chris giggled for a good five (maybe ten) minutes over what Dustin attempted at being the most serious and emphatic proclamation, and by the time Chris had regain some semblance of composure, Dustin himself was doubled over laughing himself. The insanity of the admission didn't make it any less honest, but it was and still is a bit of a ridiculous jump, and instead of quitting his job and giving that career change a go, Dustin is completely happy with doing the party planning thing on the side, for free (and at the expense of his Facebook credit card).

"You'll be there, right?" Dustin asks Eduardo at the end of the first quarter Facebook shareholders meeting of the year, all the not-so-important people (to him anyway) having already departed, leaving Chris, Mark, Eduardo and Dustin behind in the boardroom. 

"I don't know, Dustin. It's really a party for the employees and I'm not really..."

"What? No, it's not... Well, it is, but that's just an excuse..."

"I'll remember that when approving the expense reports," Mark grumbles under his breath but loud enough that they all can hear.

"You don't approve the expense..." Chris smugly interjects, but stops as Mark continues.

"He doesn't know that."

"I do now!" Dustin sing-songs with a huge grin, teasing really as he's always known Mary in accounting is the person with all the expense approval power, earning a glare from Mark, a head shake from Chris and a small smile from Eduardo who is trying to hide it. " _Wardo_ , you have to be there. It's a party in honor of your people!"

Eduardo looks up abruptly (Chris and Mark snickering to themselves for whatever reason), and narrows his eyes marginally. 

" _My people_?"

"Yeah! Cinco de Mayo!"

Eduardo is speechless for a moment, eyes blinking, mouth opening and closing (in the background both Chris and Mark are rudely laughing). "Dustin, you do realize I'm Brazilian?"

" _Du-uh_ , we all know that."

Eduardo looks to Mark, who shrugs and offers nothing else. Chris won't even look in Eduardo's direction, cleaning up the boardroom table instead.

"But..." Eduardo tries again, but Dustin doesn't let him finish.

"Come on, _Wardo_ , I'm not an idiot. It's like Saint Patrick's Day, everyone's Mexican on Cinco de Mayo!"

This gets a snort out of Eduardo, _finally_ , but Eduardo's still not completely roped in. Dustin can tell his friend is wavering between what he wants, and what he thinks is appropriate. _Typical Wardo_ , Dustin thinks, and is not giving up without a fight (or major guilt trip).

" _Dustin_..."

"Look, you have to come. If you don't... who else is Mark going to talk to?"

"Who said anything about _Mark_ going?" Mark says, before attempting to make his way out of the boardroom.

"Marcus, you are so coming to my... I mean the Facebook employee party, and _you_ ," Dustin says, turning back to Eduardo and pointing. "You are going to ensure Mark at least makes an appearance. I know you can't guarantee he'll stay, he's a crafty one, but come on! It will be the first party we've all attended since you got back to the states, Wardo. It'll be like old times, but with a Mariachi band and Piniatas and Corona!"

Dustin knows he's won the battle by Eduardo's sagged posture and Mark's petulant look. Chris on the other hand seems impressed, or probably just thankful he won't be charged with babysitting Mark for the evening, but either way Dustin takes this as a win all the same, and even through he's invited Eduardo, he still ends up pleasantly surprised when his doorbell rings the day of the party and on the other side Dustin finds a smiling Eduardo and pouting Mark, an hour earlier than planned.

"Thought we'd help set up," Eduardo explains, holding a box that is wider than the man's chest, and about as tall as his torso, but doesn't seem to be too terribly heavy. 

Mark, for his part, doesn't look all that thrilled, and is only carrying a laptop bag, which Dustin is definitely not surprised by.

"What's in the box?" Dustin inquires, pushing up on his toes as if that will give him a better vantage point through the box's closed flaps.

"Mexican style ponchos," Eduardo replies matter-of-factly. "Thought you might need them for your theme."

Dustin's lips do not wibble, and his eyes do not tear up, but in that moment, he really does love Eduardo and his bromance from years ago is rekindled anew.

"I could kiss you right now," Dustin blurts out, making an attempt, but the box is in the way, and Mark doesn't seem too happy about his attempts.

Eduardo's cheeks color, a pale shade of rose barely visible through his tanned skin and Mark rolls his eyes.

"Would you like me to leave you two alone for a minute?" Mark asks, shoving past Dustin and barely greeting Chris and Sean (Eldridge, not Parker) as he disappears to God knows where. 

At least Eduardo pulled through and got Mark to make an appearance, Dustin thinks, stepping aside to allow Eduardo in. Dustin knows eventually they'll see Mark again, but it will likely be much later into the evening after the man has consumed his fair share of drinks.

The hour leading to the first guest's arrival passes quickly, and not for the first time is Dustin impressed by what money is able to buy. Sombreros for each and every guest, a dozen Piniatas hanging around the back yard, an authentic Mariachi band setup on a temporary stage near the pool, and enough alcohol to keep the Margaritas flowing until dawn. And the food! Dustin can't wait to hit the catered Mexican feast he's arranged all thanks to their head programmer's connections with Dustin's favorite Mexican place near the offices. This night is just the thing their employees need to let loose the stress of the daily grind and know that their leaders do care (including the fearless top dog, even if he refuses to show it).

It's nearing midnight, the party quieting down and the band tearing down for the night, when Dustin plops next to Chris on his living room sofa. Chris and Sean are holding hands, Sean with his head lulled back against the couch and eyes closed while the fingers of his free hand twist around in Chris' hair, and Chris, he's just smiling, smiling even brighter at the jostle Dustin causes when taking a seat, turning his grin toward him.

"Dustin!"

The first thing that comes to mind, that registers in the fog of his own alcohol addled brain, is that Chris is happy, like really, really, _really_ happy. It's not that Dustin didn't know this already, or that he didn't already know that Sean is probably it for Chris, but to really see it, it makes Dustin happy too, knowing his friend has found that one person who means more than anything else in entire the world (and he will deny having such sappy thoughts to his grave). Dustin takes a long pull from his Corona, swallowing past the lump of what he refuses to call jealousy, and smiles back at his friend. 

"I think you two are staying tonight," Dustin comments, knowing he would never let them leave in their present state, what good friend would?

Chris rolls his head to look at Sean, whose hand has come to a stop in Chris' hair, and rolls back to look at Dustin. 

"It was a good party," Chris returns, not really answering but not needing to either. 

Dustin nods, finishing off his beer, and discarding the bottle on a side table. "Have you seen Mark anywhere? I think the little shit snuck out without saying goodbye."

Chris frowns, shaking his head. "No... No, that's not right. He wouldn't... He'd say... He'd say goodbye."

"That's exactly what Mark wouldn't do," Dustin insists, knowing now that Chris is really and truly drunk if he's that delusional regarding Mark's natural instincts toward polite, general, human interaction. 

Chris busts out laughing. Yes, tomorrow is definitely going to be a morning missing a few memories for Mr. Hughes.

"No!" Chris says, laughing and waking Sean up from his cat nap.

"Chris?"

"Shhhhhh..." Chris shushes, to who, Dustin isn't exactly certain, but Chris continues in a quieted tone. "Shhhhhhh, Dustin doesn't know."

Sean gives Chris a quizzical look before dropping his head back on the couch and snoring, which doesn't help matters as this just causes Chris to coo and nuzzle into Sean's side.

"I think I might be sick," Dustin mutters, shaking his head and getting up again, albeit a bit wobbly. 

"You're just jealous," Chris accuses, because he is the only one of them that really knows Dustin that well.

"I know," Dustin agrees, giving his friend a sad smile. "I know."

Chris' eyes sober a bit, maybe he isn't as far gone as Dustin thinks, but then Chris smiles again, understanding. "Mark's still here somewhere. Eduardo wouldn't have left without saying goodbye, or even offering to help clean up."

Dustin nods, watching Chris settle more comfortably into Sean's side, closing his eyes. Dustin wanders off then, leaving the might-as-well-already-be-married couple to their drunken snooze (he'll move them to one of the guest rooms soon enough). There are still people milling about, coming down from the party high (they've come a long way from the drug riddled fiascos the other Sean deemed a necessity of a party), and for a moment, even though he's barely a quarter of a century, Dustin feels a bit old and that thought alone makes him snicker to himself. Dustin grabs another bottle of beer (what the hell, right), and meanders his way through the house looking for his other wayward best friends. Someone's going to help him clean up.

Dustin is nearing his office when he hears the quiet rumbling of voices. Thinking he's catching one of his wayward employees possibly hooking up with another, Dustin slows his movements, aiming for stealth-ninja steps (one can never have too much blackmail on hand) but most definitely failing as he needs to keep at least one hand on the wall at all times to maintain balance (the other occupied by his beer). When he turns the corner, the voices he hears register as familiar, but the alcohol has slowed his recognition ability. Dustin is standing in his office doorway before anything really clicks.

The visual makes even less sense at first, Mark's bare back toward the door, Mark straddled over someone's lap on Dustin's office couch, Mark's laptop open and discarded to the side with its screen casting eerie illumination on the preoccupied couple, and the hands, settled and gripping at Mark's hips possessively which are grinding and rutting down in a way that sober or completely smashed Dustin would know their purpose.

"Wardo..." Mark's plea is desperate and needy, and oddly enough a little bit commanding (if that is even possible - Dustin has downed at least a six pack over the course of the night). "Wardo, please..."

"Yeah..." _Wardo_ pants, followed by a groan caused by a particular forceful, downward thrust made by Mark. "Yeah, yeah..."

At the sound of a belt buckle being fumbled with, and another groan, Mark's this time, the train wreck Dustin couldn't tear his eyes away from finally registers and the beer bottle slips from his hand. Thankfully it doesn't shatter, only clatters, spills and rolls across the office's hardwood floor. If that hasn't made his present well enough known, his gut reaction exclamation does.

"Holy shit!"

The room falls silent, and Dustin doesn't even know why he still can't pull himself away. Maybe he thinks he's hallucinating the scene before him, his mind playing tricks so-to-speak and he's waiting for it all to fade away. Or maybe it's because Mark and Eduardo have been keeping secrets from them, and he wants proof of the truth, confirmation that this is really real. Or maybe it is the alcohol, but then the tableau is finally shattered by Mark's voice.

"Dustin..."

And all Dustin can think to do is flee. He staggers down the dark corridor, past his dining room table, and the door leading to the backyard, and back into the living room where he collapses down next to Chris again in what he can only explain as shock.

"I need bleach and a Brillo pad." Chris sits up at Dustin's words (or more probably the jostle), but doesn't say or admit to anything.

"You knew."

Chris blinks up at him, sleep and alcohol warring with clarity, but then the lines connect and Chris grins up at him, causing Dustin to sag petulantly further into the couch.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Chris sits up and leans against Dustin, wrapping one arm around Dustin's shoulders and resting his head on top of Dustin's. They sit like that for a while, and Dustin thinks Chris might have fallen back asleep, until Chris speaks.

"They've been through a lot, we all have. I think they... I think they wanted to tell us... But we weren't listening."

Chris' words don't make sense at first, and on their own, he can't force them to either, but then Chris adds, "They did tell us... Before... That one night at the bar... Eduardo said..."

And Dustin does remember that night now, or more he remembers laughing at Eduardo, thinking his friend was joking just to get Dustin off his back about dating, and Mark walking off with a fretting Eduardo close behind. The memory makes him feel more nauseous than his worst hangover morning ever.

"We are really horrible friends."

Chris' head nods against his own.

"Somehow I think we've been forgiven."

"Hrmph," Dustin makes a noise, not so convinced, especially after interrupting what he did. "Do you think... I mean... This is real, right? Not just them... _helping each other_..."

Chris snorts. "That is something stupid they would do, I wouldn't be surprised by those two, but I think... No, I know... They... "

"They're each other's Sean," Dustin supplies, looking around Chris to where Sean is now drooling on his couch, Dustin proud of his own choice of comparison (and a little concerned for his suede couch).

Chris just giggles again, giving Dustin half-hearted squeeze of a hug and a kiss on his cheek, and as Chris returns to snuggle against his boyfriend, Dustin contemplates just how many more beers he needs to consume to completely forget this night ever happened.

~~~~~

There are many things Erica expected from her life or at least dreamed about when she was growing up. When she was five all she ever dreamed about was marrying a prince and living happily ever after, just like all the fairy tale stories her parents read to her before bed. When she was a teenager college was all she thought about, Harvard, Yale, Penn State, Boston, it didn't really matter, all that did matter was furthering her education and proving herself to be as good, if not better than the boys in her class. Once she was at Boston University it transitioned to making a name for herself in the world before the demands of husband and children took over. Now, in her late twenties, Erica can't say she hit too far off the mark. She has a career as a more than successful journalist, something she had never dreamed of but found she was naturally _good_ at, her name well known if the awards on her office wall mean _anything_. Prince Charming, well, she did find him, but instead of becoming her possible, future husband, he ended up being her best friend. The rest, marriage and family, there was still time for that. She wasn't even thirty yet and still a few too many goals left on her list to accomplish by thirty for her to be settling down just yet. Granted, Erica would never turn away destiny over her pride, but she wasn't hearing the tick-tick-tick of a clock either so there's time, no matter what Erica's mother says each time she visits home.

When she received a call a month ago from her _Prince Charming_ best friend with an invitation to a house warming party in Palo Alto, while the invitation was very much unexpected, Erica didn't hesitate in accepting a chance to see Eduardo. They've kept in touch since the whole Facebook mess and graduating, she keeping him sane most days through phone calls and eventually Skype after he moved across the Pacific in an effort to separate and distance himself even further from the past. She should have known better that he couldn't stay away forever, that eventually he would return. Eduardo is definitely a Prince, one with a heart of gold, who will continue getting himself hurt time and again because he always cares too much, always forgives even when it isn't deserved, always _loves_ without reservation.

"Palo Alto, really? I have to say, that's the last place I ever expected _you_ to end up." Erica is surprised by the location, mainly because they both have a common past tied to the technology mecca, but she keeps her voice light, aiming for support over accusation.

"Honestly, two years ago I would have said exactly the same thing," Eduardo admits, the honesty in his voice something she has come to appreciate over the years, and his nervous, quiet laugh telling more than his words. "Things change though, and Palo Alto is where I need to be."

"Hmmm," Erica hums, not agreeing with him, as she knows when Eduardo says things what he's really saying is _people_ , and that is one sentiment she cannot agree with when it comes to Mark in respects to Eduardo. 

"Please, Erica, you're like my best friend... You are my best friend, and we haven't seen each other since... _God_ , I can't even remember how long. You _have_ to come!"

Nothing could keep her away of course, because the one unmistakable thing in Eduardo's voice during that call was his happiness. It's been far too long since she's heard that level of almost joy from her friend, but that doesn't mean she isn't apprehensive or concerned over Eduardo's surprise decision. It's not that Erica _hates_ Mark, or still holds some kind of _grudge_ , she long since let that ship sail and has moved on, but someone has to look out for Eduardo and it might as well be her, which is how she finds herself standing outside of Eduardo's new home in Palo Alto, property gated for privacy and a drive that isn't so extensive but long enough to accommodate the number of other cars lining it. The home is very unassuming, larger than she could ever afford, then again Eduardo could probably afford a home twice its size, but that wouldn't be Eduardo either and she finds it rather fitting. It's a typical family styled home for anyone _well-to-do_ , with a landscaped front lawn of limited flowers, obviously by hire, and large windows with curtains drawn open, inviting and overlook the manicured masterpiece. It takes Erica a moment to reconcile the change from the impersonal, high-rise, luxury suite in Singapore, to this, a _home_ , a change she is pleased to see.

Oddly enough, Eduardo is not the person who answers the door when she finally brings herself to ring the bell, which is not terribly surprising as the man always thinks about others first and sometimes doesn't know when or how to politely excuse himself from a conversation, but she is surprised to find Mark pulling open the door, eyes smiling even if his mouth isn't. Even after he registers the next guest to arrive, his blue eyes don't fade so much as become a bit guarded.

"Erica," Mark greets hesitantly, with an attempted, albeit forced smile. "Um... Wardo... He's..."

Mark's words trail off as he looks over his shoulder, and Erica finds she can't help laughing. She regrets the impulsive reaction immediately when Mark turns back to glare, definitely not the foot she wants to start the day off with.

"I'm sorry... I shouldn't..." Erica shakes her head and clears her throat before trying again. "It's good to see you, Mark."

"It is?"

She wants to laugh again at the surprised rise of Mark's brow and voice, but knows now is definitely not the time to give into another such impulse. 

"I think we can both be adults here, don't you, at least for Eduardo's sake," Erica explains, noting the softening of Mark's eyes at the mention of their mutual friend's name. " _And_ , I'd like to think we've grown since our college years. It seems like a lifetime ago..."

"Try ten lifetimes," Mark corrects, a shadow of something crossing his face before he shakes himself out of his own thoughts. "Please, come in, before Wardo accuses me of being a terrible host."

Mark steps aside and it's as she passes through the threshold that his attire finally registers, sounding off warning bells that something isn't necessarily _right_. Instead of the typical jeans and T-shirt that to this day is Mark's daily wear if the media is to be trusted, he is wearing a midnight blue tailored suit that makes his eyes stand out, shiny, overly expensive, dress shoes, and his hair is not tamed so much as subdued, making Mark look more like an adult than she ever remembers him being. It's definitely been a lifetime and then some that's aged them all.

"Please, help yourself to... whatever," Mark says, pausing to scratch his head. "I'm not even really sure what all there is. Dustin was placed... Well, he took over, and who can really say no... Not that he ever listens. He has this uncanny way of ignoring what he doesn't want to hear."

They both laugh, together, and Erica is reminded of the good times they shared back when they were dating. It wasn't all bad, or frustrating, or even infuriating. There were quiet times spent studying while he clacked away on his computer, Mark stroking her hair sometimes, right before distracting her away from her studying. She smiles at him, and watches him fidget under her gaze because the one thing that will never change is Mark's inability to handle judgement.

"Um... I'll go see if I can find Wardo..." Mark trails off, taking his leave quickly and disappearing up a set of stairs Erica assumes leads to the second level.

Erica makes her way through the first floor of Eduardo's new home, seeking out the other guests, finding them in the back yard. The home doesn't look lived in yet, the living room housing a more sterile environment feel than a settled in home, but that is to be expected when Eduardo's move-in date was just over a week ago. Nonetheless, she can still see him in every aspect of the rooms she passes through. The rooms feel more like Eduardo than his Singapore luxury apartment, and has Erica thinking just maybe, Eduardo's return to the States bodes well for her dearest friend.

The backyard is where everyone is gathered, the usual characters in Dustin and Chris, and even Eduardo's mother is present, but there is no sign of Mr. Saverin, something that doesn't surprise Erica in the slightest. What she is surprised to note is that Mark's own family is present too. Karen and Edward, Mark's parents, are standing under the shade of a tree that is not towering but definitely full with green leaves and white spring flowers. Next to them is Eduardo's mother, and the group of three are smiling and nodding knowingly. There's Mark's sisters too, Randi, Donna, and Arielle, Arielle crouched down, playfully ruffling the fur of a white mop dog, while the older sisters laugh. Something in Erica's stomachs twists, flips, tumbles, and for a moment she feels a little sick. Not in the realization that this housewarming is more than what it presents at face value, but that there have been more than a few occasions where Eduardo had tried to tell her and she wasn't listening.

"You look like you could use a drink," someone says from her peripheral view, a glass of golden liquid appearing before her that she prays is some kind of alcohol.

Erica takes the flute, champaign she realizes once she's downed it, and turns to offer words of thanks. Chris' smile is sympathetic as he takes her empty flute and offers her his own half finished one. She tips her head in thanks, finishing off that one too. 

"When?" She asks, setting the empty flute down on an unoccupied table a foot away. 

Chris shrugs his shoulders, looking out over the mix of gathered guests. "While he was in Singapore? Shortly after returning? Harvard? _Forever_? Does it really matter?"

"Yes, no, perhaps," Erica returns, the bite in her voice more than apparent, like a mamma bear protecting her young, but steps back, taking a breath, knowing while the past isn't that far behind them, wasn't it less than half an hour ago that she was agreeing with Mark that it felt more like a lifetime (or ten)?

Chris snorts and laughs, turning to offer her reassurance, she thinks. "Doesn't really matter what we think, does it?"

Chris' smile is almost that, _reassuring_ , because he seems confident that the end of the world, or at least what happened a lifetime ago, won't be repeated. She wants to believe him, that Eduardo is getting not just what he wants but what he deserves after all the heartache, but it's not until she sees it for herself that she will allow herself to believe, accept, _trust_ that Eduardo isn't making the wrong decision again.

Erica excuses herself, retracing her steps back into Eduardo's, correction, Mark and Eduardo's home, closing off the general party noise by the sliding glass door. It takes a moment to register that all is not so quiet in the house, even though all the guests are in the back yard.

"I'm gonna screw up you know? Sometime, tomorrow, next week, next year, _God_ every day of our entire lives, there will be the potential that I am going to fuck up, Wardo, and Eri... there will always be _someone_ there reminding me that I'm an asshole, and I am, but I..." Mark pauses, and she watches his pacing halt to look up at Eduardo, eyes expressing how scared he really is of that happening. "I don't want to... I can't disappoint you again."

" _Mark_ ," Eduardo murmurs, his left hand reaching up to trace the side of Mark's face, and it isn't the gesture that catches Erica's breath but the golden glint of a ring on Eduardo's left ring finger. "I'm well aware of the potential, but it's a two way street, yeah? Neither of us is perfect, neither of us were then and not even now. I don't expect you to be. I expect you to be... _you_. If anything, that you believe we are going to have a lifetime of potential fuck-ups, I have to admit, I'm quite looking forward to it."

Mark surges forward, as if trying to seal these strange but obviously normal for them vows, that probably aren't far off the mark of what they actually exchanged during their commitment ceremony, whenever that was, leaving Erica feeling as if she's intruding on something intimate that was only meant for them. It isn't until she sees the glint of Mark's own matching ring as his left hand fists the back of Eduardo's suit jacket that whatever spell had Erica rooted in place breaks and she quietly exits the room and house, rejoining the rest of the guests back outside. Her cheeks feel warm, and her feet are not unstable, but they are navigating on their own in a stagger as she finds a free seat and takes it heavily.

"Be thankful you didn't walk in on them going at it like rabbits," Dustin states, taking a seat next to Erica and offering her another flute is champaign. "Trust me, that definitely isn't easily erased from the memory, no matter how much alcohol is involved or time has passed."

Dustin tips his beer bottle, an odd combination compared to the champaign that only Dustin would arrange because not everyone likes champaign but everyone likes beer, but she matches the gesture with the tip of her own drink.

"I am a horrible friend," Erica admits, turning to speak to Dustin, who just laughs.

"Join the club," he returns, placing his beer bottle down in front of him. "We've all basically pissed on them over the last couple months, but they've obviously forgiven us if we're here today."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, or excuse our stupidity."

Dustin shrugs, the sound of the sliding doors drawing their attention back to the house as Mark and Eduardo emerge from it, a wide, happy smile lighting Eduardo's face as he takes in the people gathered, while a more hesitant one graces Mark's, especially when he meets Erica's eyes, as if trying to prove himself. Erica wishes she could tell him there is nothing to prove, not to her or anyone except for Eduardo, and she's pretty sure, deep down, Mark knows this, but she also knows how difficult it is for Mark to let go of that small part of him that will always be struggling to prove himself. 

It's then that the white mop of a dog bounds toward Mark and Eduardo, all yips and barks and wagging tail, breaking their eye contact. Mark watches the dog excitedly jumps against Eduardo's leg, tongue lolling out and licking at Eduardo's face when he crouches to greet the dog. Mark scolds the jumping _Beast_ while Eduardo seems to indulge the canine in his over exuberant antics.

"You're spoiling him," Mark mutters, Eduardo's smile brightening tenfold and making it useless for Mark to maintain his admonishing frown.

"I'm not the one who bought him his own bed," Eduardo looks up at Mark and forestalls whatever argument Mark was planning on shooting back. "A four poster bed, in his own room for that matter."

Mark shrugs, cheeks turning pink as he averts his eyes, and Eduardo laughs, giving Beast another ruffle to his fringe before standing while the dog runs circles around their feet. Mark smiles down at Beast as the dog runs off toward his sisters again, his smile not fading in the slightest, and if anything becoming more sure. 

When they finally call for everyone's attention, Eduardo offers thanks for all who could be here today. Eduardo speaks with an exuberant confidence anyone would be easily drawn in by, and they all are. He shines when he says the word we, speaking for both Mark and himself, and falters only once, choked up when he announces, "Mark and I are not only living together, but we committed ourselves to each other earlier today, and you, all of you, are the most important people in our lives whom we want to share this day with. Thank you for being here. Thank you for loving and supporting us. And most importantly, thank you for all the support to come, because we are both surely going to need it."

It isn't Eduardo's speech itself that moves Erica so much as when his voice falters and Mark steps up to take Eduardo's hand, offering support when it's needed, knowing when support is needed, and how Eduardo stands a little taller with the contact. Eduardo doesn't let go either when he returns their guests to the party and they make their way around talking with their family and friends, being wished congratulations, Mark keeping in step and smiling along, the smile not forced but honest and genuine. It's probably the happiest she's ever seen Mark (and she's dated him), and to be honest, it's the happiest she's ever seen Eduardo too. 

Erica sobers quickly after that, choosing to peruse the dessert table that is insane, like a candy mountain explosion combined with the Keebler Elves working overtime, definitely a product of Dustin's own design that she really can't complain about at the moment. She carries her mound of sweets (chocolate covered every-kind-of-fruit, and at least one of each cookie variety) to one of the tables scattered around the back lawn, taking a seat, surprised when she finds herself joined by half of the happy couple.

"So, be honest, how disappointed are you?" Eduardo asks, looking nervous for the first time today, a fact Erica is not too pleased with because that is her fault.

"Honestly, I am probably more disappointed than I ever expected to be," Erica admits, abandoning her plate of goodies to give Eduardo her full attention, his face falling at her words. "I'm disappointed in myself Eduardo, not you. How can I be disappointed in you when you... _God_ , you look so happy, content! And Mark..."

Erica pauses as they both look out across the lawn to where Mark is being teased by his sisters and Dustin, a blush dark on his cheeks, but the man is still smiling, looking just as happy and content as Eduardo himself, even as he allows his sisters and friend their loving jibes.

"He's not as confident as he seems, not when it doesn't involve Facebook," Eduardo says, his eyes continuing to look softly over at Mark as she turns at his statement.

"I know," Erica agrees, taking hold of Eduardo's hand, her thumb rubbing against the ring on his finger. "He loves you."

Erica isn't sure if she's trying to assure Eduardo that she believes the statement, or convince herself that it's true, maybe it's both. Maybe she just needs to hear the truth in those words out loud to believe, because it is true, Mark loves Eduardo. One look, now that the blinders of the past have been lifted, she can't deny it, and on top of it all, Mark makes Eduardo happy, and that is all she ever wanted for her friend, all he really deserves.

"I love him too."

Erica nods, tightening her hold of his hand, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening before."

"You weren't the only one," Eduardo admits with a shrug that says, _what can you do_ , before adding, "I don't really blame you. Our past didn't necessarily encourage our future, but you're listening now, yeah? That's all that matters. That you understand and can be happy for us now, that's all I could ask of my best friend."

Leaning over, Erica kisses Eduardo's cheek before standing and giving Eduardo's hand a tug to follow. "Come on, I think I deserve a proper introduction to your _husband_ , seeing as I _am_ your best friend."

Eduardo grins up at her, rising to follow Erica across the lawn to where Mark is standing, alone now, watching them approach. Mark looks weary, uncertain, but he doesn't break eye contact with her. When Eduardo makes the overly formal (not truly necessary) introduction, Mark snorts and shakes his head, causing Eduardo's smile to beam even brighter. Seeing Eduardo happy causes Mark to stand a little taller, and Erica can't help thinking they really are good for each other. 

"If you even think about hurting him..." Erica whispers in warning as she hugs Mark, but she doesn't have a chance to finish her friendly threat because Mark pulls back, eyes serious in his lock on her's as he interrupts saying, "You'll be he first person I call."

And Erica believes him.


End file.
